


Hallelujah

by supreme_genius



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel
Genre: Blood, F/M, Fraction version, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Spoilers, Violence, but nothing too graphic, follows Hawkeye 18, spoilers for the entire series thus far
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 20:04:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1911999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supreme_genius/pseuds/supreme_genius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint gets in over his head. Kate does everything in her power (and then some) to save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hallelujah

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Marvel or it's characters.  
> I make no monetary gain from this.  
> It has been reread but not totally beta'd. 
> 
> This may be very triggering for some readers, so reader discression is advised. 
> 
> There are lines of dialogue pulled directly from issues 04, 09, and 13.
> 
> "Hallelujah" started playing just as I finished it and now I can't imagine any other title.

The words still dwell in the back of Kate’s mind. “ _Don’t hang out with him. He’ll only let you down_.” Jessica had gone all woman-scorned and explicitly told Clint everything he’d done wrong in their relationship – right in front of Kate, no less. Then she tried to give Kate a few words of wisdom; stay away from Clint Barton. But Kate’s never really been good at following directions or respecting authority. She _is_ a Hawkeye after all. The only reason she isn’t sitting in Clint’s kitchen, drinking his coffee and reading his paper, is because _he_ was the one to tell her to leave for a while.

> “I kinda gotta…get out of here really fast. And maybe you shouldn’t be around me right now.”
> 
> “Clint, let me _help_ you. I trade on your name. What kind of _you_ would I be if I didn’t help?
> 
> “An _alive_ me. Kate, I – For the next week or so, get as far away from “Hawkeye” as you can. If it works out, you’ll _know_ , and if it doesn’t – well, you’ll know that too.”
> 
> “Clint…can I have your stuff, when you’re dead?”
> 
> “Hell no. You’re rich. Buy your own stuff. Besides, S.H.I.E.L.D. will probably have to confiscate it for evidence.” He pauses. “Tell you what, if I die, you can have my case. It’s good for travel.”
> 
> “Think I have quite enough of your baggage already, thanks.”

Of course when Jessica talked about how Clint bails when things get rough, Kate’s mind went to that moment. But she pushed that thought out of her mind very quickly because Clint didn’t bail, not really. He left to protect her. _That was different_ , she told herself. She has to keep telling herself that every morning when she wakes up alone in her LA trailer. She has his dog, some of his arrows, his namesake. But what she lacks is Clint himself. She hates it; hates every single minute of it. But she busies herself with PI work. She takes on any case – no matter how small or trivial – that comes her way. She takes whatever money – no matter how little – clients are willing to toss her way. She goes around telling people she’s pretty much an avenger. That’s what it takes. That’s how she copes.

 _You should just go back to New York and help him figure this out. You’ve saved his ass before; you can do it again. You belong in New York, not out here._ Sometimes it’s hard for her to fight her anger. She’s mad at Clint for getting himself in too deep with whoever was after him this time. She’s mad at whoever is after him. But mostly, she’s mad at herself for leaving, for trying to establish a life in LA, for not putting her foot down.

Kate and Clint didn’t exchange too many explicitly heartfelt moments. Usually they hid their feelings, barely letting them surface. Feelings were hidden beneath jokes and eye rolls. Kate didn’t need to hear “I care about you” or “I’m here for you” to know it was true of Clint. And she knew she didn’t need to say anything for Clint to know it was true of her, too. But that night in the limo, she knew she had to say it.

> “You can scream and you can yell and be as self-destructive as you want. Because I know you’re going to be here for me when it’s my turn to fall apart. Let them come, Clint. Let every last one of those tracksuit-wearing, sub-verbal, bullying, murderous scumbags come at us. Because you and me? Together? Together, Clint, I think you and me are the person we both wish we could be. And I know _that_ person…I know that person is worth something. I know _that_ person can…can pretty much do anything.”

Of course Clint had fallen asleep and Kate’s words went to waste. But at least they were out there and not bottled up inside of her anymore. Part of her is actually thankful that, in typical Barton style, Clint had fallen asleep without hearing a word. Because if Clint had heard the words, they probably would have had to stop tiptoeing around what was happening.

At first, Clint was strictly a mentor. But then the more she got to know him, the more he became a friend. It frustrated her because she wasn’t supposed to get attached. They don’t live the kind of lives that come with the privilege of getting close to people. That’s when mistakes happen; Clint Barton is the poster boy for that. So really, Kate should have known better. And when she realized that she didn’t, she should have listened to Jessica. Her life would be easier, safer. But _damn it_ , it’s Clint and somehow you just get attached to him.

Which is why her heart sank into the pit of her stomach when she sees that email. _They’re going to try and kill Clint Barton_. Her heart is screaming in agony, kept silent only by the desire to save face. She has to keep it together. _Has_ to. Because if she loses it, even just for a second, she knows she could jeopardize everything. _You’re going to keep your shit together. You’re going to remain calm. You’re going to keep a clear head, stick to the plan. You’re gonna make it out of this town. And, come hell or high water, you’re going to save Clint._

Kate fights, tooth and nail. She fights harder than she ever has, harder than she ever thought herself capable. It takes time – which she really doesn’t have – but she puts an arrow through each of Madame Masque’s eyes. It is by no means easy and Kate barely walks away from it. With Masque out of the way, Kate makes her way to the Neffs. She knows it’s going to be harder and far more dangerous, but anger courses through her veins and fuels the fire she sets to their lives. No one – _no one_ – is going to kill the one person she cares about most in this world. She lets the anger, the hurt, the hatred guide her, push her passed her breaking point. Held together by nothing more than a few bandages and the remnants of a purple suit, Kate ends it. Well, she ends what she can in LA. No more Madame Masque. No more Neffs.

When she gets back to New York, she’s looking worse for wear. She looks like nothing more than the shell of the girl she used to be; hollowed out by the life she chose and the desire to save the man in which she’s placed her affections. She doesn’t know how much more she can take before the façade wears away and she cracks. But she knows she has to soldier on. She’s so close.

It takes the help of the Avengers – the whole lot of them – a few mutants, and a handful of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents to find Clint. _Let them come_ , she had said, _let every last one of those tracksuit-wearing, sub-verbal, bullying, murderous scumbags come at us_. She didn’t mean it like this – not with Clint’s life hanging in the balance. Kate curses every word she muttered that night.

Their plan is intricate and just one wrong move could cause everything to come crashing down, leaving Clint in its wake. _Just keep it together a little longer_ , she tells herself. One slip and Clint becomes another unnecessary red mark in her ledger. Kate knows she can’t handle that.

With everyone out making their way to their respective locations, Kate takes a moment to linger behind. She curses Clint for not moving into the Avengers Tower when Tony offered. If he had just caved and moved in, none of this would be happening. Kate could have come back before she got wrapped up in her own problems in LA. They all could be up in the rec room shooting pool and watching movies, trying to catch Steve up on all that he’s missed. But no, Clint had to be a bleeding heart, had to make sure everyone in that building kept their home. _There are other apartment buildings in New York, Clint, just walk away_. If there is one thing Clint Barton is, it’s thick-headed. He gets his mind set on something, and that’s all he can see.

Kate grabs the last few arrows – ones with the Tony Stark stamp of approval – and loads them into her quiver. She gets in the elevator and heads to the ground floor. _Text when you get to the fifth floor_ , Tony had said. That gives her enough time to get into her own position down the block before JARVIS can completely lock-down the tower. When the elevator doors shut, soothing jazz starts to play. Kate laughs, but it’s sad. Clint had made a joke to Tony about the elevators needing music. This is what he got – the typical elevator music. This piece, however, sounded much more beautiful than any of the others she had heard. Briefly she figures JARVIS was just trying to help; he’s not. A swan song is what pop culture would call it and it made Kate’s heart ache.

The numbers light up and fade and when the light illuminates the number five, Kate hits send and their mission officially begins. Three minutes later and Avengers Tower is officially on lock down and Kate is in her spot.

 _You can do this, Katie-Kate. You’ve got the skill,_ Clint’s voice fills her head; their first mission is all she can think about. _Hell, you’re better than I am. Maybe you should be Hawkeye._ Clint had only been half joking when he said it. “You’re crazy,” she told him. _I’m serious_. He handed her a single purple arrow and smiled down at her. _Welcome to the team, Hawkeye. You’re pretty much and Avenger now._

Kate almost breaks with the memory of Clint first calling her Hawkeye. Instead of pushing the thought away, she lets it consume her. But rather than breaking her, it sparks a fire within her. A fire that had burned down to a few barely-burning embers by the time she got back to New York. But now it was raging deep in her chest and pushing her forward.

Everything goes according to plan and leaves an entire group of tracksuit-clad bros bloody, bruised, and barely breathing. The last is because Kate can’t hold back. She has to let herself slip just that little bit. But then she’s being pulled back by a metal arm and she’s watching as the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents take the guy away in cuffs.

“Come on,” Bucky says. Other than Clint, Bucky is the only person that can keep Kate calm under pressure. He knows she’s about to break if she doesn’t find Barton alive. Bucky knows the desperation, and that’s why she picked him as her partner for this. If she can’t have Clint, she’ll always take Bucky.

Kate lets herself be dragged out of the room and pushed up the stairs. Bucky keeps her going, pushing her down the hall. They stand outside of room 4F. The door is locked and chained. It’s the only thing keeping Kate from Clint. She stands aside and lets Bucky break down the door. Unable to stand it – the feeling of emptiness that only having Clint back can cure – she pushes passed Bucky and runs into the room.

Clint’s lying on the bed, covered in blood. Kate tries to scream, but she’s silenced by the agony. She’s paralyzed with fear, pain, desperation, and devastation. Bucky passes her, walks to the bed, and reaches out his flesh-and-blood hand. He presses two fingers to Clint’s neck, checking for a pulse.

“Kate,” he says but gets no response. “Kate,” he says more forcefully, almost yelling.

Kate’s standing still, her eyes fixed in a blank stare. The only movement of her body is the flow of tears rolling down her cheeks.

“He’s still alive. Pulse is weak but… he’s still alive.”

Bucky radios for medical assistance, letting them know Clint’s condition. When the words register, Kate practically throws herself at the bed, at Clint. She’s careful not to hurt him anymore, but she has to feel him, _needs_ to feel him, his pulse. She grabs his hand, pressing her lips to his bloody knuckles.

“Oh god, Clint,” she whispers, her voice small and weak.

When the medics come in, Bucky ushers Kate away from the bed, but lets her stay in the room. He knows she needs to stay. She clings to him, hands holding onto him, trying to keep herself standing. Her knees are weak and if she lets go of Bucky, she’ll go crashing to the floor. Bucky insists she get checked out by a medic but she just shakes her head.

“I have to… I have to go with him.” Kate tries to step away, but sways.

Bucky’s quick to wrap an arm around her and keep her up. He finally takes a moment to look her over. “Kate, you’re bleeding.”

There’s a red spot on Kate’s suit, on her left side, just under her breast. The spot was slowly getting bigger.

“When did this happen?” Bucky calls for another medic.

Kate looks up at him, her pupils dilated.

“Stay with me, Kate. Come on. You didn’t get this far to quit now.” He helps her to slowly sink to the floor and sit down. Her eyes droop shut. “No, wake up, Kate.” Her eyes flutter back open, barely focusing on Bucky before things go dark.

The next time Kate’s eyes open, she’s staring up at a white, tiled ceiling. She looks to the left and Bucky’s sitting in a chair, staring back at her.

“Morning, sleeping beauty.”

Kate groans.

“You’ve been out for almost two days,” Bucky adds and Kate knows he’s been here the whole time. “Clint’s in the other bed.” He gets up and pushes the curtain aside, revealing a sleeping Clint. “He just got out of his last surgery. He’ll be out a little longer.”

“He’s gonna be okay?” Kate says quietly, her mouth dry and throat tight.

Bucky nods. “Yeah.” He decides to leave out the part about Clint needing physical therapy for his arm and the laundry list of other injuries. Kate doesn’t need to know any of it right now, just that Clint’s going to be okay.

It’s another hour before Clint starts to wake up. When he opens his eyes, he sees Kate sitting up, eating jello and playing cards with Bucky.

“I want jello,” he manages to mumble.

Kate turns her head so quickly she almost adds whiplash to her list of current injuries. She puts on a fake scowl. “Barton, you dummy.” They both smile because that’s been code for _I love you_ longer than either of them has realized.

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry.


End file.
